Less Than Nothing
by sinemoras09
Summary: Eden is kidnapped. AU. Eden X Sylar.
1. Chapter 1

_You looked at me like I was less than nothing, do you remember? I saw it in your eyes, Eden. The thought of me touching you like this made your skin crawl._

Her eyes flew open and she sat up. Headlights from across the street bounced through the half-opened blinds at the window. She had been crying and her face felt taut and her shoulders exhausted. She didn't know where she was or how long she had been there, but with the rain and the cold and the change in weather, she knew was not in Texas anymore.

"Hi, Eden," Sylar said, and she closed her eyes.

The first time he came to her, he had just hauled her out of the paper factory, her face bleeding all over his white shirt. He had cleaned her up and stripped her down, gagging her tight so she couldn't speak. That was when he fucked her. _"Did you like that, Eden?" he had asked. "You won't admit it, but I know you did. You should be excited, I can figure out how things work. How you work," he added, dragging his hand across her skin. "It won't be rape," he said. "You'll be begging me not to stop."_

She fought him at first, tried to use her voice to stop the onslaught. But even without the gag they both knew she couldn't use her ability even if she wanted to—-she had to be calm, had to throw all her force and all her power behind her command for it to work. But here, now, she was half-naked and shaking, her voice small and weak. She was scared, and that's what almost got her killed before.

Tonight, though, would be different. If she couldn't use her power, maybe she could still talk her way out of this. Maybe this time he would let her go.

"You were in love with me," she said. It wasn't a question. "Why?"

Sylar looked at her with dark eyes. "It was always you," he said. "I remember the first time I saw you. You had some sort of casserole you baked Dr. Suresh. It was so…earnest. Loving, even, the way you kept him company. I would have given anything to have that."

She moved closer to him. "Maybe you still can," she said. She leaned close to him, close enough to touch. "I never thought you were 'less than nothing,'" she said, softly. She let her hand gently brush against his side. "Lonely, maybe. And maybe a little too quiet, but not less than nothing."

He looked away, but not before she saw the wetness around his eyes, and she knew she had him.

"Poor Gabriel Gray," she said. "All he wanted was to mean something to someone. I just wish it could have been me."

He stared at her, stunned. Do it, she thought to herself. Do it and he might let you go.

Quietly, she pulled him against her and kissed his mouth, her hand softly touching his stomach. She kissed his eyes and kissed his face, and moved to his ear and whispered softly, "_Now you're going to let me go._"

And then she was flying across the room, slamming against the dresser. The mirror crashed behind her.

"That was a mean trick, Eden," Sylar said.

She grabbed a shard of mirror and lunged at him, but he caught the glass in his hand. She could feel the glass cutting into his palm, but he wouldn't let go. She cried and tried to move her arms, but he pinned her against the wall.

"You're quite the actress, I should have known," he said. Blood dripped down his hand and arm. "For a moment I almost believed you."

He threw the glass on the floor and hauled her up by the elbows, slamming her facedown against the mattress and gripping her shoulder with his bleeding hand. "I thought you wanted me," he said. "All this power, and no one's ever made me feel that way. But you lied to me, Eden." He shoved her face against the mattress. "You lied and I've killed people for a lot less."

"_Let me go,_" she said

"Oh Eden, you know that little trick of yours won't work, now."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. Please, you're hurting me."

He yanked her head up with her hair. "You think that hurts? " he asked. "I can show you what pain really feels like. I can make you scream. Make you beg. I can make it so that you wished I killed you in the first place. That's what you want, isn't it? You want me to be the bad guy."

She felt his breath shallow and hot against her back. His hand was still bleeding.

"Tell me you love me," he said.

"Fuck you," she said.

He grabbed her arm and brutally twisted it behind her back. "Tell me you love me, or else I'll break your arm," he said.

She swallowed and fought against the rising panic in her chest. "I love you," she said. The words came out in dry heaves.

"That wasn't very convincing," he said. "Say it again."

"I love you," she said, and she started to cry.

He wrenched her arm backward, making her cry out. "You can do so much better than that," he said. "That's what you do, right? You make people believe. So say it again, and say it right, or else I take that piece of glass of yours and make it so you can't say anything, anymore."

She could feel his breath hot against her ear. She closed her eyes. She thought about Mohinder, about Mr. Bennet, about Isaac. She thought about crawling up beside any one of them and saying those words.

"I love you," she said. She felt him relax his grip on her arm.

"Say it again," he said, softly.

He felt warm and safe and good, she let herself sink against him. "I love you," she said.

She felt him smile against her shoulder. "Again," he said.

She turned her head slightly so she could meet his gaze. "I love you," she said. He groaned and buried his head against her shoulder.

"Say my name," he said. He slid his hand underneath her shirt and cupped her breast. "Say it."

"Gabriel," she said. "Gabe." He kissed her neck and slipped inside her.

"I love you, Gabriel," she said. "I love you." And then she felt him lose control, felt him come too quickly, before he was ready. There was a horrifying moment of stillness, neither one of them seemingly knowing what to do. His humiliation was palpable.

He let go of her arm. He got up. She heard him zip up his pants, heard the door close. She reached between her legs and wiped the semen off with her hand. There was blood on her shoulder, too, but it wasn't hers. His hand never stopped bleeding.

She looked at her hand dully, rubbing the semen and the blood between her fingers, looked at her shoulder with its bloody handprint and the bruises of his hand against her arm. Outside she could see the moonlight filtering through the half-opened blinds, and could hear the cars driving by on the freeway. It wasn't until then that she started to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

After that night, Sylar stopped coming into her room. The first day he was gone, Eden ran around the bedroom hysterical, afraid that he would never come back and that she'd be locked in there forever. _I'm going to starve to death,_ she thought, and she cried herself to sleep; when she woke up the next morning, she saw a box of cereal lying on top of the dresser. _He's still here, he's still watching me,_ she thought, and she couldn't decide if that was comforting.

The first night she saw him again, a car alarm had gone off across the street, waking her up. She blinked and then closed her eyes, fully intending to go back to sleep. It was then that she heard the door softly open and close, and she felt the side of the bed sink under the weight of another person beside her. There were no footsteps. Her throat tightened, but she kept her eyes closed and did not move. She felt a tentative hand brush against her arm, and she held her breath, pretending to sleep. The hand grew bolder and gently slipped around her waist, and she felt herself being folded up against an invisible man. _He's so warm_, she thought, but she pushed the thought away. _He'll kill me if I move._ Eventually she fell asleep again, and when she woke up, no one was there.

Days passed, the passage of time marked only by the endless parade of food and clean clothes every morning on her nightstand. Eden told herself she was grateful for the time alone, but as the days wore on she grew more restless. She would stare for hours out the window, wondering where he was and if he would let her go. But every night, she would fall asleep wrapped in the arms of a man she pretended was not there, and every morning, she would be horrified to feel a slight twinge of regret at waking up alone.

Then one night she felt him touch her--really touch her--and a panicked voice in her head screamed "rape." Suddenly she re-discovered her voice.

"_Don't move._" Eden said. "_You're not going to move; you're going to stay in that corner and you're going to tell me the best way to kill you._"

Oh God, the look in his eyes. Eden had a sick feeling in her stomach and she felt herself losing control. It was just the two of them, alone in the bedroom, except this time the door was unlocked and Sylar couldn't move. She wished she could just leave, but she couldn't. There was no way of contacting Bennet, and if she just told Sylar to stop killing, there was no way of knowing if her voice would work, or for how long. She _had_ to kill him--she had no choice. But that sick feeling made her throat tighten, and she fought hard to ignore it.

"_Tell me how to kill you,_" she repeated.

Sylar closed his eyes.

"_Tell me!_" she said.

"There's a razor in the bathroom across the hall," Sylar said.

Eden walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. "A straight razor," she said, coming back into the room. "How appropriate."

"You don't want to kill me, you care about me," Sylar said. "You may not admit it, but I know it's true."

"You so sure about that?" Eden asked. She pressed the razor against his neck. "You're a fucking serial killer. I ought to gut you right now."

"Look at you, trying to be all tough. You're shaking," Sylar said. "Without your precious Mr. Bennet you're nothing. Just a scared little girl with a daddy complex."

"You shut up," Eden said.

"I saw the way you looked at Bennet, at Dr. Suresh," Sylar said. "You're so love-starved, you throw yourself at any man who shows you the slightest bit of affection. But no one ever loves you back, Eden—"

"Shut up," Eden said.

"—not even your father," Sylar said. "He didn't want you. No one wanted you. I may be the first person ever to show you that kind of attention."

Eden slapped him hard across the face. "_I said shut up!_" she said.

"See that?" Sylar asked. A moment of triumph. "Your voice isn't even working anymore."

Eden grabbed his shirt and yanked him toward her. "You think you can threaten me?" she hissed, bringing the blade up to his carotid. "You can't even _move_ unless I tell you to."

"It's not a threat, it's the truth. Why else would you let me be with you every night?" Sylar asked. "Oh yes, Eden. Did you really think I didn't know?"

And there it was, that sick feeling in her stomach. Eden couldn't speak.

"You've been pretending to be asleep," Sylar said. "You probably told yourself you did it because you had to, that I would hurt you if you didn't, but let's be honest, it was the only way you'd let yourself get close to me. But what do I know?" he asked, and his dark eyes narrowed. "I'm just a fucking serial killer."

The sun was starting to come up, and a watery light filtered into the gray room, casting long shadows on the floor. Somewhere outside she heard a car drive by, then another. Eden tried to say, "it's not true," but her voice stuck in her throat. Instead she asked, "how did you know?" and her voice was as soft as a child's.

"You clench your hands when you're sleeping," Sylar said. "The past few nights your hands have been open." And maybe it was a trick of light, or the way his words hung in the air like a thick fog, but with his shoulders hunched and his long body curled up like a comma in the chair, suddenly Sylar wasn't Sylar anymore.

She stared at Gabriel and sat down on the bed, trying not to cry.

"Eden," Sylar said.

"How can I love you?" she asked. Tears rolled down her face and she hugged herself, hard. "You kill people—you killed Papa Suresh. How can I love you? How?" She balled a fist into her eye and shook, silently.

And then she felt it: an invisible hand gently brushing against her face. 

Eden looked up, stunned.

"You forgot to tell me I couldn't use my abilities," Sylar said, quietly. And she felt him touch her again, gently and without a hint of threat, his way of reaching out from across the room.

Eden closed her eyes and swallowed.

"I hate you," she said. Her voice was hoarse and thick. "_You can move._"


	3. Chapter 3

She remembered what happened the day he kidnapped her. 

"You knew, didn't you?"

The window shattered and his hand was around her throat. "You knew what I was and you let it continue. In a way you helped me," he said, and he gripped her throat even harder. "And after I've consumed your power you'll help me even more."

Bennet came running. "Shoot him!" he said. The Haitian and a throng of guards came running up behind him.

Sylar threw Eden in front of him. "I may not have any powers, but I have a gun," he said, and he pressed it against Eden's temple. Eden gasped, breathing hard. "Make a move and I blow her head off, I swear it."

"We both know you're not going to do that," Bennet said. "You want her ability. If you shoot her now you won't be able to get it."

"I have a better idea," Sylar said, and he whipped around and shot the Haitian. The Haitian crumpled, clutching his arm. Sylar threw his arm up and the guards smashed against the wall; Bennet went flying. He grabbed Eden and dragged her out into the hallway.

There was a supply closet in the hall and Sylar shoved Eden inside. A workman's uniform hung on the door, and a pair of boots was against the wall. There was a roll of duct tape on the shelf and Sylar grabbed it, slapping a piece over her mouth and used it to tie her wrists together. He threw on the shirt and pants and shoved his feet into the boots. Then he grabbed Eden by the arms and yanked her to her feet.

They were running, but she couldn't keep up. As he dragged her behind him her ankle snapped and she stumbled. "Move!" Sylar yanked her back up again and pulled her into a garage. There was a white van parked inside and he the door threw open. "Get in," he said, but Eden didn't move fast enough. He brutally shoved her inside and closed the door.

It was dark inside the van. The shocks weren't very good, and as he drove she bounced against the floor. She was lying on her side, her hands still bound by duct tape. She touched the side of her face to her bare shoulder and saw the blood. Oh God, he's going to kill me, she thought. She brought her knee up to her face and tried to scrape the duct tape off her mouth with her leg, but the van kept jerking and she kept slamming into the wall. Finally she gave up and slumped over, waiting for him to stop driving.

They drove for what seemed like hours before she heard the brakes squeal and felt the van stop. She heard the front door open and close and heard his footsteps walk around to the back. From the way his footsteps sounded he was walking on dirt. Oh God, he's going to kill me, she thought again, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

The backdoor opened and the van flooded with light. They were on a dirt road parked next to a large, yellow field. Nowhere to run, she thought. Sylar grabbed Eden by the arm and yanked her outside. She put her weight on her sprained ankle and she stumbled, falling to the ground.

Birds were chirping. This is the last thing I'll ever hear, she thought. Birds chirping.

Sylar walked up beside her and knelt down on the ground. His boots were covered in dust. He took her head in his hands as if to snap her neck, roughly grabbing her by the jaw.

"I almost didn't recognize you," Sylar said. "The Eden I knew wasn't so..._domineering._" He moved her face from side to side, studying her intently. "I wonder which is the act? The mousy neighbor or the Tinkerbell cunt?"

She jerked her shoulders against his grip but he held her down.

"I don't think I'm going to kill you after all," Sylar said. He brushed his thumb over her bare shoulder. "I'd like to see how you work, first."

That was several weeks ago; now he was sitting across from her, staring at her with wounded eyes. How can I love him? she wondered. How? How?

She told him he could move, and she didn't stop him when he pulled her into his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

Now she was crying softly against his shoulder, letting him settle her against his chest and rock her slowly. There were no words. He looked at her and seemed to understand exactly what she was feeling, because he gathered her close and kissed her again and again, up and down the sides of her face and by the corners of her eyes.

They held each other for a long time, lying at the edge of the bed. Neither one of them had slept yet and Eden was exhausted--she started to fall asleep against his shoulder. She felt him start to stand up, but she touched his arm. "Will you stay with me?" she asked. Her voice was still thin from all her crying.

She heard his breath catch in his throat, a combination of surprise and hesitation, before lying back down and pulling her close. They both fell asleep.

Time passed, and a thick rectangle of light volleyed off the window and into Eden's eyes. She blinked and slowly sat up, her neck and shoulders stiff from sleeping in the same position. She exhaled slowly and stretched, gingerly rolling to her side to watch him sleep. His hands were clenching and unclenching the sheet, and she felt herself start to smile. If I clench my hands, so do you, she thought, and she lightly touched his face. He seemed so different now, sleeping beside her like this. She wondered briefly if this was what he was like before he became Sylar; he seemed so gentle now.

Mousy neighbor or Tinkerbell cunt, she thought, and she lightly touched his hair. Mousy neighbor.

The sun was out now, and the slits in the blinds made bright stripes of light across his face. The corners of his mouth turned upward slightly and when he opened his eyes, and she couldn't help but notice how long his lashes were.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" she asked.

"No, it's okay," he said. His eyes were smiling. He brushed the hair from her face and propped himself up on his elbow. "What time is it?" Before she could answer, he stretched his arm across her body and picked up a watch that was sitting on the nightstand. "7 AM," he said. He sank against her, closing his eyes. "God, that's what? Two hours of sleep?"

"Yeah, it's too bright out," she said. He kissed her forehead.

"I can fix it," he said, and he held his hand out. The room grew cold and the window frosted over, layers and layers of ice changing the hard, bright light to a soft blue gray.

"Now it's too cold," Eden said, and Sylar laughed, pulling her close. She settled against his chest and sighed.

"How's your hand?" she asked.

He shifted his weight and showed her his hand. She gingerly cupped his palm and held it to the light. The gash was crusted and weeping.

"Does it hurt?" she asked. She gently stroked his palm with her thumb.

"Not so much, right now," he said. "I'm still having trouble holding things, but once it heals it should be fine."

Eden frowned. "You can't use your telekinesis?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I can swing my mind around like a baseball bat, but it's still hard for me to do anything that requires fine movement. I haven't practiced enough," he said.

"I thought you were good at everything," Eden said.

"I can figure things out, but that doesn't mean I don't have to practice," he said.

Eden smiled. "Do you want to know what your original ability is?" she asked.

He looked at her, confused. "I wasn't born with any ability," he said.

"Yeah you were: intuitive aptitude," she said. "'A superhuman ability to determine exactly how things work.' I saw it written on your chart," she said.

He stared at her. "You're kidding," he said. "I thought anyone could do what I do. I just thought I was more patient."

"I mean, who knows, it might be a bullshit diagnosis, but it explains a lot," Eden said. She felt him stiffen slightly, pulling inward.

"So it was all for nothing," he said, more to himself than to her. He looked at her, and she could see the regret in his eyes. "All the people I've killed, it's no wonder you were afraid of me," he said. "I don't know what happened, I let it get out of control. I never wanted to hurt anyone, I swear it. It just happened."

Eden didn't say anything. Instead she rubbed his arm and waited for him to continue.

"Do you know about Brian Davis?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah," she said. "He was your first kill."

He took a breath. "I wasn't planning on hurting him," he said. "I just wanted to see what he was like. He was special, and I wanted to know what made him different. But he wasn't different, he was just like me. Weak. Unimportant. Except that he had a talent I didn't have, and he didn't even want it. It made me angry, and that's why I killed him. Afterwards I couldn't stop. I sought out more people, more abilities. Taking what they didn't deserve. And every time I _took_, a little bit of me died. Every power I gained, I became less like myself and more like God." His voice dropped to a ragged whisper. "If I were a better person I would have killed myself," he said. "Sometimes I wish I did."

She eased him against her chest, her arms tight around his back.

"I know what you're going through," she said. "When I discovered my power, it was like a whole new world. I could make people do what I wanted. I could make them listen to me. It was better than sex," she said. She looked at her hands. "I hurt a lot of people, though," she said. "If Bennet didn't find me, I don't know what would have happened."

"Have you ever killed anyone before?" he asked. She nodded against his chest.

"Yeah," she said. "My stepmom, by accident. And then this guy in Oklahoma." She closed her eyes. "My stepmom and I got into a fight, and I told her I wished she was dead," she said. "I was high when I killed the guy in Oklahoma. I wanted his car, but he wouldn't listen to me. So I shot him."

She hugged him tighter, as if trying to escape from the memory.

"I was so messed up," she said. "I used to go into clubs and pick up random guys, and I'd tell them to look at me, that I was the most beautiful girl in the room. I'd make them fall in love with me, and for a while I'd convince myself that it was real. But as soon as I stopped using my voice, they'd all leave, and I'd have to find another guy and start all over. I was lonely; I didn't have anyone. I thought sex was the same thing as love and when I figured out it wasn't, I started using. It wasn't until Bennet came along that I finally got better."

He touched the side of her face with his fingertips, softly tracing the outline of her jaw.

"I wish I knew you then," he said, and she closed her eyes.

"Me too."

They were quiet for a long time. Across from them, the sheet of ice began to melt, the water dripping onto the floor. Eden kissed the cut on his hand again, letting her lips trace the curve of his fingers.

"I really hurt you, didn't I?" she asked. She watched the ice drip and pool around the floor, the light coming through in ragged patches. "That's why you stopped coming to my room."

He nodded. "The last time you kissed me, you were lying and I fell for it. I was so humiliated. Ashamed. I didn't want to go through that again," he said.

"But you came back," she said, and she hugged him tighter. "You slept next to me."

"I missed you," he said, and she started to cry.

"Don't cry," he said, and he kissed the corners of her eyes. "Eden, it's okay. Don't cry, don't cry."

He moved to kiss her forehead, but she tilted her head up and kissed his mouth. He hesitated, surprised, but she took his head in her hands and brought him closer to her. She kissed him again, softly at first, then with a gathering intensity that made them both gasp. And when he finally touched her, he did so with a tenderness she had not experienced before.

Later, when they finished making love, he offered to let her shower first while he made lunch. "Can't we just stay here?" she asked, but he laughed, promising they could come back to bed after they ate.

Now she stood at the doorway, watching him make lunch. He had opened up a can of soup and was warming it up on the stove, and she stifled a laugh when she saw him taste it. He turned around and saw her standing there. "What?" he asked.

She walked up behind him and reached an arm around his waist. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Tasting the soup," he said. "Why? What's so funny?"

She ducked her head against his arm. "You're tasting it, but you don't have any spices," she said. "You don't even have salt."

"Oh." He grinned self-consciously. "I wasn't even thinking," he said.

She popped up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "You know, next time someone catches you doing that, just tell them you're testing the temperature," she said. "Better yet, you should probably just let me do the cooking from now on."

He started to smile, but then something changed; he stopped stirring. He cocked his head to the side, a look of intense concentration on his face.

"What?" Eden asked.

"Something's wrong," Sylar said.

Suddenly the windows smashed open. Darts came flying from outside and armed gunmen came rushing into the room. Sylar grabbed Eden and tried to run down the hallway, but Bennet and the Haitian cut them off. A tranquilizer hit Sylar in the neck and he crashed into the table.

"Gabriel!" Eden rushed toward him. Guards came running after her.

Bennet was yelling. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" but the tranquilizer dart hit her neck and she crashed into the wall, crumbling onto the ground. Bennet threw himself on the ground next to her and shook her. "Eden!"

She struggled to open her eyes, and she could see Gabriel lying on the ground, swimming in her field of vision. The blackness and the colors of the room swirled together but she focused on his face; their eyes locked before she finally passed out.


	5. Chapter 5

When she woke up, she was lying on a cot in one of Primatech's holding cells. Hank was there checking her IV, and after a round of intense questioning she found out that Gabriel was back in his old cell, only this time hooked up to a glycimerine drip. "He was getting violent," Hank explained. "He attacked the Haitian and tried to use his telekinesis to break in here, so we had to sedate him; we didn't have a choice."

"He tried to rescue me?" Eden asked, but Hank wouldn't answer.

After Hank cleared her medically, Eden went to look for Bennet. She found him standing in the interrogation room, shuffling files into a briefcase.

"I need to talk to you," Eden said. "Sylar doesn't want to kill anymore; I think we can help him."

"Is that right?" Bennet asked. "And what makes you say that?"

"I've spent time with him," Eden said. "I really think he wants to change. And not only that, he trusts me. If he gets the urge to kill again, I can tell him to stop," she said.

"Well, there's a problem with that. You're not going to be here," Bennet said. "How is your Japanese?"

"What?"

"Your Japanese," Bennet repeated. He snapped the briefcase shut. "Have you been keeping up with your language studies?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?" Eden asked.

Bennet sat down behind the desk.

"You're being sent to Tokyo," Bennet said. "You'll have a new name and a new identity, and you're going to break contact with everyone who knew you as Eden McCain. That's including me," Bennet said.

Eden's stomach sank. "Why?"

"You broke the rules," he said. "You disobeyed a direct order. You're lucky you were just reassigned."

"But Odessa is my home. You can't do that!" Eden said.

"My superiors wanted to take you to the Haitian and throw you back on the streets, but I convinced them otherwise," Bennet said. "You should be grateful you're getting a second chance."

"What about Gabriel?" she asked. "What about him?"

"That's something I want to talk to you about," Bennet said. "Eden, sit down." He made a motion toward the chair opposite the desk.

"We decided, given the circumstances, that it would be best for all parties involved if Sylar had his memories of the past few weeks erased. Unfortunately, he seems to be resisting the Haitian, so we need you to do it," Bennet said.

"I don't understand," Eden said.

"Before you leave, we need you to talk to Sylar. You're going to give him new memories, starting from when he pulled you through the window. You're going to tell him that when he threatened to take your ability, you shot yourself to keep that from happening. Then I want you to tell him we got there and subdued him before he could escape," Bennet said.

"You want me to tell him I killed myself," Eden said. "You want him to think I'm _dead_."

Bennet spread his hands. "I'd rather you not be the one to do this, but I don't have a choice," he said.

"But why do you want to take his memory? That doesn't make sense," Eden said.

"You don't want a man like that obsessed with you," Bennet said. "And let's not forget, he threatened to take your ability. It's for your own protection."

"Gabriel wouldn't hurt me," Eden said.

"Gabriel was the one who killed Brian Davis. Or have you forgotten that?" Bennet asked.

"And how many people have I killed? Do you think I'm dangerous?" Eden asked. "Gabriel never hurt me, he doesn't even want to kill anymore. I mean, Jesus, you were the ones who shot me!" She leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table. "We can help him. You helped me, right? And you helped Isaac get clean. So why can't you help him, too?"

"Helping Isaac served a purpose. Sylar's ability isn't of any use to us," Bennet said.

"Intuitive Aptitude isn't 'of use' to you?" Eden stared at him. "I thought you cared about us, but I was wrong. You only want us for our abilities."

"Listen to yourself, you're confusing me with Sylar," Bennet said. "I can't even begin to imagine what he's put you through, but clearly it's affected your judgment."

"Well what about Isaac?" Eden asked. "What about him? He worked _so hard_ to get sober again, and you just threw it away."

"Eden-"

"You're not protecting me because you care, you're protecting me because I wouldn't be 'of use' to you if I'm dead!"

"Eden!"

"I won't do it!" Eden said. "Gabriel's the only person who cares about me, and now he's locked up with a fucking _shunt_ in his head. You want me to help you? Send me to fucking Tokyo, I don't give a shit. You're not making me."

"Fine, do whatever you want," Bennet said. "Just realize, if you don't do this, I send the Haitian over here for a visit. I'll leave it up to you."

There was a tense silence. Both of them had gotten up out of their chairs and were shouting at each other, but now Eden was shaken. It was a job that needed to get done, and no matter what happened, Gabriel would lose his memory and she would be alone. Bennet was right: it would be easier to forget. But then she remembered the look in Gabriel's eyes the night she cut his hand, and she couldn't bear the thought of hating him again.

Bennet looked at her evenly. "You really care about him, don't you?" he asked.

Eden stared at the ground. "He's the only one who's ever understood me," she said, softly.

Bennet shook his head. "He understands everyone. It's the intuitive aptitude," he said, but the comment was cruel and it hurt her feelings, and Eden felt her face start to crumble.

"Eden, don't cry." Bennet got up from across the table and sat down beside her. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so cold. But it's worse than I thought and I don't know what to do." He touched her arm.

"Do you know what Stockholm syndrome is?" Bennet asked.

Eden shook her head.

"It's a defense mechanism," Bennet said, gently. "The victim forms an unnatural attachment to her captor, and I think that's what happened here. Eden, honey, you're confused. And with what he's done to you I don't blame you."

He put his hand on her shoulder. "I didn't want to have to do this, but other than seeing the Haitian I don't know of any other way."

He pulled out a thick manila envelop from his briefcase and set it on the table.

"Open it," Bennet said.

Eden took the envelop in her hands and opened it. Inside were crime scene photos. Eden looked up at him, confused.

"I know about his victims already, why are you showing me this?" Eden asked.

Bennet ignored her. He took the stack from her and held up a photograph. A waitress was lying sprawled out on the floor, a pool of blood collecting around her face.

"See this girl?" he asked. "Her name was Charlie Andrews. She worked at a diner in Midland. She's the reason why Sylar is able to resist the Haitian right now."

He held up another photograph. A cheerleader on the ground, a large gash across the top of her forehead; her hair was blonde and sticky with blood.

"This is Jackie Wilcox, Sylar's last victim," Bennet said. "15 years old, co-captain of the cheerleading squad. She didn't even have an ability."

He held up a third photograph: a man sitting at a table, covered in ice, and a woman crucified against a wall.

"These are Molly Walker's parents," he said. "This is Mr. Walker, he's the one frozen to death. This is Mrs. Walker. She's the one nailed against the stairwell. It's a miracle their little girl made it out alive."

"I don't want to see anymore," Eden said, but Bennet shook his head.

"I have one more picture to show you," Bennet said, and Eden moaned, putting her head in her hands.

He set the photograph on the table. Eden turned her head away.

"Look at it," Bennet said. He pushed it under her hands. "Look at it," he repeated.

Eden looked down. It was a photograph of a taxi; streaks of blood were on the driver's side window, and a man was hunched forward on the steering wheel. His face was bludgeoned so badly it didn't look like a face at all, just a raw, bloodied stump spurting blood onto the dashboard.

"You probably don't recognize him, but that's Chandra Suresh," Bennet said, quietly. Eden closed her eyes, tears spilling over.

"Can you really be with someone who did this?" Bennet asked. "You loved Dr. Suresh, he was like a father to you. And look at what Sylar did. He was probably as close to him as you were, and he killed him. Just like that. Who's to say he wouldn't do the same thing to you?"

Bennet pulled the photograph out from under her hands and carefully slid it back into his briefcase.

"I know it's hard, but I don't want to see you get hurt," Bennet said. "Believe me, there's nothing more I want to do than take you to the Haitian and make it go away. But I respect you too much to do that. You deserve so much better than him, Eden. Trust me. You deserve better." And maybe it was the way Bennet leaned toward her, or the quiet sincerity in his voice, but suddenly Eden was overwhelmed by a feeling she couldn't describe. It was as if he was speaking not to her but to Claire, his Claire, and suddenly something inside her broke, and there was no one there to fix it.

Bennet crouched down beside her, looking at her eye-level.

"Eden, listen to me, it'll be okay. I will always be there for you—maybe not in an official capacity, but certainly as a friend. And when you're in Tokyo you feel free to call me anytime you're homesick. Okay?"

Bennet put his hands on both her shoulders and bent down, looking her in the eyes. "Okay?"

Eden nodded, dully. "Okay," she said.

They entered Sylar's cell. Sylar was curled up on the cot, his knees drawn to his chest. He was pale with dark circles around his eyes, but it was the tremors in his arms and legs that made her want to cry. She knelt beside him, trying not to notice how chapped his lips were or the ragged breaths he took, more like spasms than actual breathing.

Bennet placed a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want me to get the Haitian?" Bennet asked, gently.

Eden shook her head. "I don't want that man touching me," she said.

"Good girl," Bennet said.

Eden took a breath. "Can I have a minute?" she asked.

Bennet nodded. "I'll let you say goodbye," he said, and he stepped out of the room.

It was just the two of them, now. Eden lightly touched Gabriel's forehead, and when she did so his eyes slowly opened. She could see him struggling to focus on her face, and she gently cupped his head in her hands.

"Shh," she said, and she kissed him softly. "Shh, it's okay."

He was breathing heavily, and with great difficulty, he moved his hand to touch her cheek. She clasped his hand into hers and held it against her chest.

"I love you," she said, and he smiled before closing his eyes.

She looked at Bennet. He was standing behind the glass, watching her.

"_Gabriel,_" she said. "_This is what you're going to remember._


End file.
